


Dreamland, USA

by Memory_Keeper



Category: Miss Saigon - Schönberg/Boublil/Maltby
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-24
Updated: 2015-09-24
Packaged: 2018-04-23 04:54:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4863881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Memory_Keeper/pseuds/Memory_Keeper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if Kim and The Engineer were somehow able to reach America with John’s help?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dreamland, USA

**Author's Note:**

> I was fortunate to watch one of the last shows of Miss Saigon with Lea Salonga and Will Chase in Manila back in 2000, a year before they closed it on Broadway. I wrote this story because “I Still Believe” haunts me to this day. It is one of the most heartbreaking songs ever and I don’t want Kim to sing it in vain. So I gave her a better (sort of) ending that she deserved.

He finds her in a small, rundown apartment in a dim corner of Chinatown in San Francisco. The apartment is no bigger than his old place in Vietnam but less shabby.

She looks up from her place on the scuffed floor as he enters, her slim, graceful fingers motionless on the paintbrush she holds. His breath catches in his throat at the sight of her-- soft brown eyes, smooth porcelain skin, long black hair carelessly draped over one shoulder. It has been three years, and she is lovelier than he remembered.

She slowly gets to her feet, wary and startled as he continues to silently stare at her from the doorway. There is a sheen of tears in her eyes as she holds his gaze. She speaks first.

“How did you find me?”

Her voice, sweet and tremulous, the same one that has haunted his dreams for years, finally drives him to breathe again. “John told me.” He takes a step towards her. “He said you didn’t want me to know you were here. Why?”

She tilts her head towards the only window in the apartment, overlooking the patched, crowded rooftops of the neighborhood. It wasn’t the best view, but late at night silvery moonlight spilled through the window and she loved it because of that. 

“John said you moved on. I didn’t want to inconvenience you.”

He couldn’t bear it any longer. He strides to her and crushes her in his arms. “Oh Kim, sweetheart, I’m so sorry.” He buries his face in her neck and starts to sob. “I tried to look for you, I swear I did! But I had no choice; they dragged me away on that blasted helicopter. I’m so sorry I left you behind.” 

Tears run down her face as she holds him, unable to believe he is here with her now, solid and strong, after so many moonlit nights of wanting. “I know, Chris, I know that now. I’m sorry, too.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for!” he says angrily, pulling back and framing her face in his hands. “I tried to go back, but there was no way to get back in. For years I feared the worst had happened to you, but by some miracle, you’re here now. And I will forever be grateful for it.” He closes the distance and captures her lips hungrily, his entire body on fire. 

She gasps and kisses him back, pulling him even closer, her hands tiny butterflies touching him everywhere she could reach. She missed him so much, there were days she couldn’t get up from the pain of facing another day without him. 

Then she catches herself and pushes him back. “Chris! No, this isn’t right.” 

He reluctantly lets her go, breathing hard. He doesn’t ask why. The ring feels like a tiny noose tightening on his finger. “Kim, I…” 

She swipes at her cheeks for remnants of tears, a useless gesture as new ones well up in her eyes. “No, please don’t explain. I can’t bear to hear about her.” 

He stares at her, and before he can catch himself, says, “I want to make it right.”

She looks at him sadly. “There’s nothing to make right. You have a wife.” The word is like broken glass on her tongue. “You should go.”

He swallows and tries to explain anyway. “It was self preservation. If I hadn’t gotten married I would have killed myself. There was no reason to live. I thought you were dead.”

The words claw their way out of her throat. “But I wasn’t! I was waiting for you to come back for me and...” She suddenly breaks off and turns away. After she found out he had remarried, she made John swear never to tell Chris about her secret, who was currently in school on the other side of town.

But she understood him in a sad, strange way. Because if it wasn’t for her precious secret during the darkest days after Chris’ departure, she would have lost the will to live as well. 

“And what?” Chris pulls her back to face him.

“Nothing,” she whispers, avoiding his searching look. “It’s nothing.” She wishes he wouldn’t touch her so much, it makes her want to crawl into his arms and break all her promises to herself. She catches sight of the canvas on the floor that is on the verge of being trampled by Chris’ left foot. “I better put this away.”

Chris glances at the painting, a half-finished cityscape sparkling with stars. “It’s beautiful. I didn’t know you could paint,” he says in surprise.

“There are many things you don’t know about me,” Kim says carefully, and with the same care props up the painting against the threadbare sofa. “The Engineer knows a Frenchman who has an art gallery in the city. I sell my paintings there.”

“That’s fantastic, Kim.” Chris’ face turns dark. “Hearing you were with The Engineer, I was afraid he placed you in another club.” 

“Oh, I’m still in a club, but it’s a decent place, this one,” Kim says. “It’s a supper club. I sing there most evenings.”

“I would love to hear you sing again,” Chris says softly, taking her hand. “You have the voice of an angel. If you would like?”

Kim smiles sadly, recalling an echo of a conversation long ago. “If I would like?”

Chris smiles back fondly, remembering as well, and reaches out to tuck a strand of silky hair behind her ear. “If you would like, could I go to this supper club tonight and hear you sing?” His eyes wander to the painting on the sofa. “And I would like to purchase that painting of yours, once you finish it. What is it called?”

“'Dreamland, USA',” Kim says. “It’s a land where opportunities and dreams come true.” 

“And second chances,” Chris adds huskily, staring deep into her eyes.

Kim looks up at him wistfully, her one true love, and thinks about the world outside where life is real. She thinks about her parents, Thuy dying in her arms. Her young son and paper dragons. She thinks about how far she’s come. 

She allows herself the tiniest sliver of hope, maybe.

The End


End file.
